


Sometimes His Hands Are

by redledgers



Category: Marvel Avengers Movies Universe
Genre: F/M, are not that uncomfortable, corsets, especially when Clint is there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-09
Updated: 2012-11-09
Packaged: 2017-11-18 06:36:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/557976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redledgers/pseuds/redledgers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint complains a lot, and this night is no exception, especially when Natasha is the thing he wants most.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sometimes His Hands Are

**Author's Note:**

> Maddy (ratherwonderfulreally on tumblr) actually wrote the first paragraph when she was complaining about how much she wanted corset fic.  
> Kudos to her.

“I'll make you an offer. The corset only comes off if you can take it off,” she smirks proudly, watching his eyes light up with the challenge and something darker she can't readily identify.

Clint reaches toward her, skimming his hands down the back of the corset. He turns her in his arms and inspects the knot. He twists it around in his fingers before deciding how best to unlace the damn thing without cutting it. He thinks it would be a waste of a perfectly flattering clothing item. “This whole night would have gone faster if you hadn't worn this,” he says, brushing his lips up against her ear. His fingers work the tight knot apart.

“Well that wouldn't be fun,” Natasha quips, playing with the ends of her long scarlet curls, a grin twitching at the edge of her lips.

“Who said anything about this night being fun?” he asks. He loosens the knot enough to tug it apart and set to work on the unlacing.

“You could have just used a knife,” she replies, turning to look at him.

He kisses her on the lips and puts his finger on her nose. “That, my darling, would be cheating. Besides, I never said I wanted to wait to fuck you until this came off. I think it would look quite good, actually.”

“Then go for it, tiger,” she purrs, allowing him to spin her once more. She leans into his touch as he works to unlace the garment.

“I thought you'd like to be able to breathe properly when I make you come, baby.” He loves this, loves the challenge and loves that she'll let him.

“Mmm aren't you sweet.” Her voice is lower now, more husky than normal, and he imagines that her eyes are flashing dark, and he'd love to see it but knows she won't let him, not yet.

Clint works the string through the eyelets, working efficiently. He presses against Natasha so she can see what she's done to him. He wants her to wear it more often, but knows she won't, knows she only dresses up when she's in a rare mood. “I will admit, these things are a bitch.” He's getting frustrated now; there are so many crisscrossing strings to figure out. “How did you get it on in the first place?”

“I have my ways,” she murmurs. She takes his hands from where they are working on the laces and brings them to rest on her hips.

He nuzzles her ear and moves his hands back to where they were before. “Stop distracting me.” In a few more minutes, the corset is completely unlaced, and he removes it gently, laying on the floor out of the way. Then he turns her around and skates his hands down her sides. “You're gorgeous, babe.”

Natasha smiles and stands on her toes to press a kiss to his lips. She only means it to be quick, but Clint grabs her waist and pulls her against him. He's still wearing his pants, and he means to make her aware of that. “I'd say this evening goes the way I want because I was successful at navigating that contraption,” he whispers.

Natasha's eyes darken and she unconsciously licks her lips, not caring anymore about hiding her desire from him. “I never promised you that.” She hooks her fingers into the waistband of his pants and tugs them down slowly.

Clint gasps as she drags them down his leg, freeing his cock, and he presses his face into the curve of her shoulder. “It shouldn't need to be promised.” His fingers trace down her spine and he rips her panties off. His head dips and he laps at her breasts, bringing the tips to peaks, relishing the breathy gasps she lets out. “Feels good, doesn't it? To let everything go after having it all squished in?”

Natasha threads her hands into his hair and drags him away, and he takes it as an invitation to move lower down her body. “Bed,” she orders.

Clint nods and nuzzles the dark hair at her mound before he lifts her into his arms. She presses herself against his face and he grins against her. Clint drops her lightly on the bed and climbs over her. “Want something?” he says against her wetness.

She grinds against him, and he flicks his tongue lazily over her folds, holds her down until she writhes beneath him. Only then does he pepper kisses up her body and settles himself between her legs. “You're feeling adventurous today,” she smirks, licking the taste of herself off his tongue. She bites his lip as he sinks into her.

“Just want you,” he says, moving at a gentle pace until she could catch her breath.

They move together, two parts of a whole like always, and when she comes, his name is on her lips and her hand on his cheek. He vows to take her again another day when she's wearing the corset and pressed against his wall.

“Thought you hated that thing,” she says, smoothing his hair down.

“Not really anymore,” he replies, nuzzling her shoulder and closing his eyes.


End file.
